Archive | September, 2017

Selfie

20 Sep

Selfie

A camera placed in every hand
In 10 years time, each ego’s grand
The selfie shows us just how far we fell

Before each person could record
Each moment, folks were not so bored
The focus was on each flower’s sweet smell

Then came phones with quite the app!
An instant, easy way to snap
A picture…but the subject matter shows

Instead of taking the world in
Too many are focused within
Before the bathroom mirror they all pose

Expressions on their face reveal
How little passion, vigor, zeal
These self-absorbed self-muses do possess

Ever notice how most who
Take selfies seem a bit askew?
No smiles, just a blank look of distress

“Look at me!” it screams aloud
“Please pay attention!” to the crowd
But no one cares ‘cause they take selfies too

Hoping someone else will care
And compliment their done up hair
Their clothes, their looks, but no one takes the cue

Fishing for a thumbs up or
A comment, every selfie whore
Does walk the streets of Twitter, Instagram

And Facebook looking for a stroke
For their ego but it’s a joke
With no punchline, just an unfunny sham

They snap and snap and snap away
And post and post and post each day
“It’s me!” It’s me! It’s me!” is their sad song

A camera placed in every hand
To take pictures of all that’s grand
How did this lovely idea go so wrong?

                        ~Miro

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You’ll Have To Kill Me

18 Sep
You’ll Have To Kill Me
 
There was a Warrior named Peace
The irony was grand
Other’s threats would not surcease
Fore he would take a stand
 
There would be those who’d warn of pain
But Peace said, “Not enough
Unless it’s death, it’s all in vain”
He’d boldly call their bluff
 
“Financial ruin!” some would crow
But Peace would then retort
“While I still breathe there is no woe”
Those threats young Peace would thwart
 
Time and time again they’d try
To strike fear in his soul
But Peace would never quake or cry
He’d dare a tougher goal
 
“You’ll have to kill me” he would give
A warning of his own
“You’ll win when I no longer live
When I am dust and bone”
 
And this is how young Peace did learn
That cowards don’t spill blood
They do not fight or cut or burn
Each threat is just a dud
 
Words used to intimidate
The comfort-addled weak
Quick to threaten, scold, berate
And dishearten the meek
 
But when a Warrior does raise
The stakes to death and life
These threateners are in a daze
So few unsheathe their knife
 
What they desire has low cost
They’re unwilling to pay
The price of fury and exhaust
To get their selfish way
 
Times have changed and very few
Are called to pay that price
They’ll use just words to threaten you
But never will they slice
 
They’ll talk and talk but never pound
They’ll urge but never slit
In idle threats no one has drowned
At least, no one with grit
 
                       ~Miro